Chapter 27Rose
Chapter 27
Rose
“H ang on a moment, Lauren.” I laid my phone on the dryer and reached down to snag a crumpled, blue-colored square from the wastebasket. When I straightened it out, the words “clean up flower beds for winter” emerged, in my handwriting.
I glanced over to the mirror above the laundry sink. Blank spaces stuck out like sore thumbs among the orderly columns of Post-its. Columns usually stacked full with my Post-its for yard and house maintenance tasks.
What the fido?
It was Tuesday morning, and I was catching up with my girl before running out to do some errands and head to the café. Lauren’s disembodied voice echoed in the utility room, asking questions like What’s going on? and Are you okay?
I snatched up the phone and informed her, “We’re moving this convo to the backyard. I gotta check something out.”
Pirate and Princess raced up to me when I stepped out onto the back patio. They were sure it was walk time, treat time or chase-the-ball time. I dispensed some ear and chest rubs, and they allowed me to push past them to look around the yard.
“That—that—that sneak.” I gasped. “He’s got some nerve.”
I swung around and…yep, further evidence of cunning. The storm windows were installed on all the windows on the back of the house, which led me to think….
“Rose Eleanor Connolly, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m hanging up and calling the police,” my friend shouted in my ear.
“I knew it was a mistake giving Rafe a key to the house.”
“Why? What’s he done? Do we need to get up there now?”
Lauren and Finn were driving up from California together early the week of Thanksgiving. Two weeks were too long for us to go without dissecting our lives in the most normal of times—and with all we had going on, this was anything but. We’d been talking for a few minutes when I’d noticed the Post-it in the trash.
“No, girl, it’s fine. I’m fine,” I reassured her. “Rafe stole some of the Post-its from my household to-do list and…did them. That’s all.”
Silence filled the moment. Lauren being Lauren, it didn’t last long.
“You mean you’re all twerked out of shape because Rafe, this muscly hot guy you’ve been sharing your bed with, did something nice for you? Without you asking?”
Huh. When you put it like that…
“Okay, okay, you’ve got a point there, judge,” I admitted. “I guess I’m more annoyed at myself for not noticing. Rafe must think I’m a real dope for not thanking him by now.”
“From what you’ve told me, he doesn’t seem like the type of guy looking for thanks. Or expecting something in return.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I trust him to not have an ulterior motive.”
Lauren remembered the dark days after David ghosted me when some college “friends” had come right out and said that I’d slept with him in exchange for good grades. And post-Brent, I’d agonized over the idea that he’d just wanted to get in my pants.
“You have a lot on your plate right now, Rose,” she noted gently. “And this is your first holiday season without your mom.”
I parked my heinie on top of the picnic table and set the phone beside me. It was sprinkling, and I could see Pirate and Princess chasing each other around the yard. It looked like both would be due for their favorite thing—towel rubdowns—before I took off.
Lauren waited patiently on the other end of the line while I sorted my thoughts.
Mom loved everything about this time of year. Throwing our Family-and-Friendsgiving party. Dressing up Pirate for the Turkey Dog Jog. Decorating the café and our house until there was hardly a square inch left bare. Baking and gifting a crazy array of holiday cookies and Swedish breads. Leading Karaoke and Karoling at the Chocolate Lab, even though she couldn’t carry a note.
I had a choice here. I could either sink into my sadness—and drag Finn, Mateo, my girls and maybe Rafe down with me—or count on my friends and family to lift me up and help me make it through this holiday season.
Lauren cleared her throat, reminding me she was still there. At the same time, the dogs ran up to me and shook themselves head to tail, spraying raindrops all over.
I yelped and came back to earth. Picking up our convo where we’d left off—knowing my girl would understand even though it’d been a good five minutes—I said, “Yes, I’ve got a lot going on, and yes, I’m missing Mom more than ever. But I know I’m doggone lucky too.”
“How so?”
“Because I’m not alone in dealing with my life,” I pointed out. “In fact, I’m probably one of the most ‘un-alone’ people you know.”
Although I had to ask myself, can you still feel lonely even if you’re never alone?
Lauren started laughing. She got it. I had friends and family and honorary family and faithful dogs and a cat or two coming out of my wazoo. Even a sweet, if overprotective and definitely temporary, gorgeous guy.
“And once you get yourself and my baby boy up here, I’ll be even less alone.”
Now she was snorting. Probably because my baby boy was eighteen, six-foot-one and 187 pounds. I chose this moment to continue, “Speaking of Rafe…”
She snorted harder and louder, if that were possible.
I managed to talk over her. “How is that little Sherlock Holmes project coming along?”
Since Lauren lived in Sonoma Valley, at least for now, and did marketing slash market research for a living, she was perfectly positioned for a little detective work. Perfect too, because…bestie.
She stopped laughing. “I should have something by Thanksgiving. I used some online search tools to find people with the Amato name in both Oakland and San Francisco. Good news? There are a couple dozen men, along with phone numbers and addresses. Sorta bad news? No info on their ages. Another way to narrow down the list is to search Facebook or Insta, but I’m not sure older men do social media much.
“Oh, and I was also able to locate the death certificate for his mom, which, unfortunately, didn’t have any info on her family.” Lauren paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to let Rafe know what we’re doing and see if he remembers his uncle’s name?”
“I’m sure,” I claimed with more confidence than I felt. “Please, please, keep on researching, and we’ll figure out what to do when you come up.”
Rafe might get mad at me for sticking my nose into his personal life. I’d already violated his trust by sharing some details with Lauren. Maybe it was the loss of my own mom that prompted all this…intrusion.
But it was a risk I was willing to take. Was it wrong that I wanted to give Rafe something tangible , something he’d never pursue on his own?
Anyway, that was the way I justified what we were doing. I could live with his anger…especially since I wouldn’t actually be living with it, once he left.
“I’ll do my best, girlfriend—don’t you worry,” Lauren assured me. “One last thing. Sleeping arrangements.”
Shih tzu. In my weekly call with Finn, I’d forgotten to mention that Rafe had virtually (and by virtually, I meant literally) moved in with me. Or maybe that was a fib that I’d forgotten.
I’d been stalling for time, deciding what to do. Now I realized it was a no-brainer. I needed to be “Mom-with-a-capital-M” for my son this holiday season. I had faith in Rafe that he would understand.
And there was a little part of me—not a kind part, but a pragmatic part—that needed to separate people who were staying in my life from people who were leaving.
“Yes, right, okay. Sleeping arrangements. You’re going to have my old bedroom, and Finn will keep his own room this time around.” In the past, we’d shifted Finn to the couch in the basement family room so Lauren or other guests could use his bedroom.
“I’m going to ask Rafe to move back to the apartment, at least while Finn’s home. And we’ll take a little break from nocturnal activities for the duration.”
Lauren snickered. “Your kiddo’s pretty smart. I think he’ll pick up on the fact that you two have grown…closer.”
“Hmm…maybe. We’re not much for PDA, and we’re trying to hold the smoldering looks to a minimum.”
She snorted one last time and said, “All righty, girl. Mother knows best.”
“Kiss Baby for me!” With that, we ended our call with promises to talk next week. I let the dogs in for their rubdowns and headed out for my errands.
My first stop was Johanssen’s Meat Market, where I placed an order for a twenty-five-pound turkey and a seven-pound bone-in ham. We were expecting a crowd for our annual Family-and-Friendsgiving dinner. And that wasn’t even counting those who were non-meat-or-poultry eaters in our group.
I was also dropping off a stack of registration forms and checks for the Turkey Dog Jog. Ever since third-generation Erik Johanssen had started making turkey dogs nearly twenty years ago, his family had been holding the charity event the Saturday after Thanksgiving in Dogwood Park.
We were one of the early sponsors, and the Chocolate Lab was also a place where people could turn in their forms and fees. Sure, folks could now register and pay online, but many of our customers were older and preferred to do things “the old-fashioned way” as Miss Ada liked to say.
The Turkey Dog Jog had never been publicized outside our neighborhood—no need since there were more than enough entrants and sponsors from canine-crazy Dogwood to make the event a success.
Finn was enthusiastic about doing the honors with Pirate this year. He’d probably dress up the big galoot in some sort of fun and funny costume like Mom used to do. Up to Finn to engineer that when he got home.
Hmm. Wonder if Rafe would like to enter Princess in the Turkey Dog Jog too? Or would she be nervous around all the other dogs? Maybe Finn and Rafe could walk Pirate and Princess together, since the two seemed to be joined at the hip these days. I’d be busy helping out at the check-in table, but Rafe would see other people he knew there too. He wasn’t shy…at all.
I’d talk with him about the idea tomorrow. I had plans for tonight.
Involving my last stop at Chocolat Je t’aime.